Ever since Arya saw Sandor bathing in the lake, she just couldn't see him the same way as she did before the whole incident. She had to shoo away unwanted thoughts all the time. How magnificent he looked when swinging his huge sword, the way he moved, even his raspy voice sent shivers down her spine sometimes now. He was a terrible man, a killer, horribly disfigured and disgusting yet, somehow, she felt drawn to him. And that was most disturbing.
She found herself imagining what it would feel like to run her fingers through his chest hair, what his mouth would taste like if they kissed, she imagined the look he would have on his face as she slid her hand down his breeches...No, no, no! She hated him! He was on her list, for gods' sakes!
She did everything she could to fill her mind with other things. She thought of her family and who of them was still alive and about all the people she wanted to kill...anything but the thoughts that gave her that funny feeling in her lower belly and made her squirm and shift in her saddle, which of course caused the Hound to give her weird looks.
She even managed to forget those uncomfortable notions for a day or two. Sandor stopped giving her the looks and she expect him to comment somehow, but he didn't say a word. Everything went back to how it was before, not for very long, though.
Sandor was nervous and tense lately. No wonder, he hadn't had a woman for so long he couldn't even remember the last time. And taking care of his needs himself while the damn Stark girl was around was close to impossible. He would gladly get a whore in the closest town they came across but he had nothing to pay her with and besides, if anyone recognised them, it would be trouble. And a fuck with a whore just wasn't worth it.
One night he was sitting by the fire, listening to Arya say her "list of doomed men," as he liked to call it and suddenly his breeches were getting uncomfortably tight. He uttered a few silent curses, got up and started walking away to the nearest group of trees to try and clean his head.
"Where are you going?"
"Where do you think? I need to take a piss."
The cold night air felt good and calming, but it wasn't calming enough for his prick. It was painfully stiff and aching for attention. He uttered more curses. For a little while he considered getting the girl involved, she looked curious enough, he wasn't blind. He saw the looks she'd been giving him since his bath in the lake. Then he though it would be a stupid idea. It would just be wrong, the girl was young and most probably still a virgin and she deserved a better first lover than him. Someone with a pretty face, someone who would be gentle and affectionate with her, not him. "A man's got to ave a code," he mumbled. It would go down if he ignored it.
When he got back to the fire, Arya was already sound asleep, snoring gently. He lay down to sleep but he couldn't. His damn prick was making it too uncomfortable. More curses followed as he closed his eyes and reached between his legs to stroke himself through the fabric of his clothes. Gods, it felt good. But after a while he needed more than that and he began to unfasten his breeches.
Arya was woken up by unusual sounds. She opened her eyes, instinctively reaching for Needle. Then she realised it was the Hound making the sounds and she had to try hard not to giggle when it occurred to her what the man was doing. At first she thought of letting him know that she was awake somehow, wondering what he would do. But then she decided not to. She could feel the strange feeling in her lower belly again. His eyes were closed and his breath was shallower than usual, his brow was covered in sweat and his hand was rubbing the bulge between his legs. It was quite a sight and she couldn't take her eyes off it.
Then his other hand reacher down and he opened his breeches and she couldn't help but stare at his cock. She had seen him naked and she knew he was big everywhere but it didn't look quite that big when it wasn't hard. She found herself fascinated by it. The tip was pale pink and it was leaking drops of a clear liquid. The shaft was thick and veiny and it disappeared in a jungle of dark curls. She watched as he took it in one of his big hands and started stroking it up and down, his thumb running across the head once in a while, smearing the little drops all over it. She heard his breathing becoming louder and his chest was rising and falling rapidly. His hand was moving faster and faster and she could hear his breath catching in his throat. She was full of anticipation. His lips started thrusting to meet his hand and then he let out a loud groan and she saw spurts of some kind of white substance come out of his cock. By then, his hand stopped moving and he just lay there, panting, his eyes still shut tight. Arya suddenly felt strange dampness between her legs and she realised her heart was racing. But then he opened his eyes and she hurriedly closed her eyes, pretending to sleep.
Sandor opened his eyes, slowly coming down from the heights of pleasure. The girl was still asleep. He wiped the mess he'd made with the hem of his cloak and fastened the breeches again. He was now feeling very tired and his eyelids were becoming heavy. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep.
Arya lay there, eyes closed and thought about what she had just seen. Now there was no way of silencing her wild thoughts and dreams.